PARTISAN REVIEW
parlor for years. Studs entered with a scowl of determination
on his face. The old man gave him a sharp look, as if to scare
him. He told Studs to sit down, his manner authoritative, and
he dabbled away at lighting his stogy.
"You're going on eighteen?"
"Yes."
"I wonder if you agree with me that it's about time that
you begin to figure out what you're going to do with your life?"
"\Vell ... I looked for a job today."
"\Vhere ?"
"Oh, a number of places in the Loop," Studs said, wishing
he had told the old man to mind his own damn business.
"Do you
wan~
to go back to school or don't you?" the old
man asked, nodding ironically.
"I don't like school," Studs said with uncertain firmness .
"Well, what do you want or like?"
"I'll get a job one of these days."
"Yes. You've been doing that for over a year, and it's cost
me a buck a day. What's the matter with you? Are you sick?
Tonight at the supper table there, you didn't even bat an eye
and had a face a yard long. What's wrong? Are you sick, or
in trouble?"
"Nothing. I'll get a job."
"Take the chip off your shoulder \"
"1 ain't got any on it
I"
"I can't understand you. Here I'm willing to give you a
hell of a lot better chance in life than I ever had, and you
won't take it. You just mope along .. . " the old man stopped
short and shrugged his shoulders, a gesture of weariness. Studs
waited to see what would come next.
"Well, as they say, you can bring a horse to the trough,
but you can't make him drink \"
The old man whewed as if expressing the difficulties of
thinking down into disconsolate depths.
"Maybe you're better off without an education, and a lot
20
